


He Wears Red

by Caprikat



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Allegory, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Metaphorical, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pain, References to Depression, References to Illness, Rejection, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Self-Reflection, Suffering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 15:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18449276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caprikat/pseuds/Caprikat
Summary: The man likes red, and while he sleeps, the timbre voice tells him “he looks even more beautiful in it than he did as a teenager.”





	He Wears Red

**Author's Note:**

> Hey so you guys can decipher this anyway you want. It's kind of a self-reflection about my crippling depression. Below, comment what you think happened, what this represents..etc...I won't tell you directly if your right or wrong, but I'll allude to it.

Sage can hear him from a distance--he swears it. He knows he’s there. He knows he’s watching over him. He’s breathing down his neck, and his strong arms--although not tangible, are there. A chill runs down his spine, he’s freezing, but he’s never scared. He’s never been scared of the man he loves and never will. Hurriedly, the petit man turns his head as if to expect the man to be there--standing tall, arms opening up to welcome him and comfort him, yet he’s only met by disappointment. 

No one’s ever there; his owlish eyes meet the end of the dim hallway, donning on him that he’s alone again; for some reason, the man never reveals himself to him; he used to do it when he was a teenager, speak of lovely things, charm him, and yet now, he becomes distant no matter how many times the omega begs. No one else comforts him. He is a burden afterall--feels like it at least--and only gains the favor of his mother, even though he feels like a burden to her too. 

When he stares at mirror, and behold, in front of his eyes is a shell of a person, he often wonders where the former him---the one who had managed to stay blissful---had left to? He cannot comprehend, and perhaps, may never comprehend why he is so habitually angry. He do not recognize my talents, and often he permits the despicable ruminations drown me. They come, each day, and each night, plaguing him to no ends. Always, they strangle him till he is tarnished in black and blue hand prints. But then he can feel it--the warm hand comforting him, telling him that everything will be fine. Sage wants to meet the man, be with him forever, but he can never get close enough. It’s only in the days where he wears red can he envision some of his face. The man likes red, and while he sleeps, the timbre voice tells him “he looks even more beautiful in it than he did as a teenager.” He tries wearing red more often, but every time he stares into his closet, all of his pristine red outfits are gone. Mother, she must have thrown them away. She hardly ever asks, and does it anyway. 

 

One day, after a long grueling day at work, Sage decides to treat himself. He buys a red hat, red turtleneck, red boots, red lipstick, red earrings so that he can impress him. Sage finally sees the man, his broaden shoulders, calming, sweet eyes; his hair is slicked back as he stands at the door with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. The omega takes a couple of steps forwards before his mother lunges at him, crying.

 

“You look terrible in red! Horrible just horrible! What have you done?” She tries forcing him back into the house. She’s gripping him with all the power in her body, but it isn’t enough to hold him back into the house. 

“No!”

He then takes the unnamed man’s hand and looks back to see his mother usual pretty face marred with fear and melancholy. “I love him. So I’m going to stay with him, but this isn’t goodbye. I’ll see you again,” he reassures, stepping out of the house with the man and into blinding daylight.

She screams and the door slams shut.


End file.
